Claudia Must Die (12 page)

“He owned several bars.”

“Ah, yes his bars. Ever been to them?”

“Yes, of course.” A road sign announced the next exit was thirty miles down the highway. Claudia eased off the gas and let the assassins slip away for the moment.

“I’m betting all of them are shitholes.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Gut feeling.”

They were, but Claudia refused to concede the point. “I didn’t notice any clues he was a gangster. He didn’t wear any gold necklaces.”

Francis spit water out the open window. He hated warm water. “What? Gold necklaces.”

“You know! In the movies they wear gold necklaces or bracelets. Dennis didn’t have any.”

“That was how you came to your decision? He didn’t wear a necklace.”

“Yes.”

“So it did cross your mind, or you wouldn’t have thought of this theory.”

His expression was unchanged, but Claudia sensed his smugness. The man was really getting under her skin. All this talk about fate, and Dennis.

“I hope these jokers exit the highway soon, I need to pee.” Last year, Claudia wouldn’t have been so indelicate; now, she didn’t care that Francis knew she had to piss. Surviving changed a person.

“I hope so, too. I want to talk to them.” Francis tapped his cheek.

“You mean—” Claudia put her fingers to her temple, making a gesture for shooting them in the head.

“No. I mean talk.”

“What are you going to say? Sorry Parker tried to kill you.”

“That might be a good start. But I don’t think I need to go there. We all have the same goal. It makes sense to work together.”

“You mean you want them to travel with us to Colorado?”

“They are great shots, I hear.”

“Then how did they miss Parker?” Claudia gritted her teeth.

“Fate.”

Claudia sucked in air and then exhaled loudly. As she let the air out, the scream inside evaporated. “You really do like that word, don’t you?”

“Not sure if I like it or not. Fate has caused me many problems…‌and lots of heartache.” Francis stared out the window, seeing nothing but flat land. No skyscrapers marred the landscape. No mountains beckoned from the horizon. Just flat nothingness.

“Are you going to kill me when all this is done?” She had to ask.

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.” Francis sat up in his seat. Off in the distance, he thought he spied something, but it turned out to be nothing. He settled back against the seat, rubbing his arm. It was time for more Advil.

“What about Parker?”

“Why would I kill Parker?” The Irishman tilted his head to get a good look at Claudia.

“No, I didn’t mean that. Do you think she’ll kill me?”

“Maybe, but I think not.” Francis turned to face the plains again.

“What makes you think that?”

“I think Parker ran through her rage at the restaurant. My guess is she’ll wake up more depressed than ever. She had her one chance and she blew it. She isn’t a killer.”

“You guess. For someone who believes so much in fate, you follow your gut quite a bit.”

“It’s hardly ever wrong.”

It was time to catch up to the brothers again. As they neared the exit, Claudia’s heart skipped in her throat. Then she saw it, the turn signal. They were exiting. Thank God. She desperately had to pee.

“Let’s see where they’re going.” Francis sat up straight and scanned the small town. There wasn’t much to see: gas station, two diners, a McDonald’s, and a vacuum repair shop. The shop had seen better days and was boarded up.

The brothers pulled into the gas station. Boyd got out and headed to the toilet.

“Pull up by the men’s room. I want to have a word with Boyd.”

“How do you know everyone’s names?” Claudia pouted.

“I make it my business to know.” He got out of the car and leaned in. “Don’t try anything funny.”

Claudia saluted him. “Don’t leave me too long with Parker.”

Francis looked back to see Otis stick the gas hose into the car, and then he started cleaning the windows.

“Here goes nothing, Francis,” the Irishman said, and then strode to the men’s room and yanked the bathroom door open.

Boyd stood at the urinal.

When the Texan glanced over his shoulder and saw Francis, he sighed and muttered, “Not again.”

“Just stay as you are,” said Francis. “I just want a word, but if you make any sudden movements—”

Boyd nodded.

“I think we want the same thing.”

Boyd’s brow furrowed.

“I want to kill the man who killed my cousin. You want to kill him to get your family back.”

“How did you know a—”

“Listen, I don’t have a lot of time.” Francis wanted to trust Claudia, but he wasn’t sure he could for long.

“There’s a diner down the street: the one with the red roof. Meet me there in ten minutes. We’ll talk.” With that, he stormed out of the bathroom.

Boyd stared at the closed door.
Did that just happen?
He waited for a minute before finishing his business.

Francis, shielded his eyes with one hand, scanned the parking lot. The car wasn’t in sight. Otis still washed the windows on his stolen vehicle.

“Dammit.” Francis stepped off the curb and headed for the road. A horn honked and a car edged out from behind the gas station. Francis rubbed his cropped ginger hair and strode confidently toward the dark blue sedan.

***

“Come on, we need to wake up Sleeping Beauty.” Francis opened the door to the backseat.

“Why?” asked Claudia. “Let her sleep.”

“We have an appointment with the boys, and we can’t leave her and Fritz in the car. It’s too hot. They could die.”

Claudia was tempted to let Parker rot in hell, but she couldn’t do that to Fritz. Even if the dog was loyal to Parker, Claudia liked him.

“Parker,” whispered Francis. He pulled her up and rested her head against his chest. Parker didn’t react. The girl gave no indication she would wake up anytime soon.

Francis tapped the top of her head.

Nothing.

He lightly slapped her cheeks, and then attempted to pry her eyes open.

Still nada.

Claudia splashed her with water. Actually, Claudia drenched her.

Parker shook her head violently and spat out water.

Francis didn’t like Claudia’s method, but he had to admit it worked. “Parker, it’s time to eat,” he said.

She blinked excessively, trying to clear the tiredness from her mind. “What time is it?” She gazed around. “Where in the hell am I?”

“Not sure anymore,” Claudia responded. “All of these states look the same to me. One crummy town after another, and nothing but fields in-between.” She looked at the plains beyond the highway. “Why do people live here?”

Francis waved Claudia off. “Parker, you haven’t eaten in a while. Do you think you can stand up?” Nurturing wasn’t normally his way, but he felt responsible for Parker’s befuddled state. He never should have brought her on this trip.

Parker nodded, but made no attempt to move.

Francis eased out of the car and offered her his hand. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you. That will make you feel better.”

Parker leaned forward and then grabbed her side. “Why do—” She felt the bandage and lifted her shirt up. “What in the fuck is going on?”

“You got shot, remember?” offered Claudia.

Francis inhaled deeply, and threw Claudia a glare that said, “One more word out of you, and I’ll shoot you.”

“Shot! Who shot me?”

Claudia opened her mouth, but when she saw Francis stiffen, she thought better of answering.

“Parker, I’ll explain everything, inside.”

The student looked up into his eyes, scrunching up her face. Her mouth gaped open. “I don’t understand why I’m shot, and why I can’t think straight. Everything is muddled.” Parker tapped her head, hoping to knock the cobwebs out. “How long have I been in the car?”

“Come on, Parker. We’ll talk inside.” Francis put his hand out to help her stand.

Parker rubbed her eyes and braced herself for the pain as she eased out of the backseat. “Do you have any Advil?”

The clarity in her emerald eyes comforted Francis. The insanity was gone.

“Yes, of course. Claudia can you bring the bottle?” Francis didn’t wait for a response. He helped Parker inside the diner.

Fritz sat outside, with a bowl of water. Incoming and outgoing customers remarked that he looked like a statue and wondered if the dog was real. No one was brave enough to approach the attack dog to find out for sure.

As she settled into her seat, Parker put her hand out for some pills. Claudia poured out twenty or more tablets and offered all of them to Parker.

Francis snatched two and shoved Claudia’s hand out of Parker’s reach. “Two will do for now.” His gruff voice was a warning to Claudia.

The front door of the diner opened, and the assassins walked in. At first, when they saw Francis and the women, they froze.

The hostess approached. “How many in your party?”

“We’re meeting some friends,” Boyd muttered, as he tugged on Otis’s arm, almost dragging his younger brother the entire way to the table.

Francis motioned to the two seats opposite him. No one spoke. Five pairs of eyes flitted back and forth, assessing the others seated at the table.

Parker rubbed her face and eyes with both hands. Finally, she broke the ice. “You look familiar.” She directed the words to Otis—the man who had shot her.

Otis stiffened.

Boyd came to his rescue. “I’m Boyd. This is my brother—Otis. I don’t think we’ve met.” He added, “Officially.”

Parker nodded hello.

“Uh, Parker just woke up from a really long nap and is still out of it,” explained Francis.

Claudia opened her mouth, but Francis dug his fingers into her thigh under the table until she closed her trap.

“Yeah, I can’t seem to wake up completely.” Parker’s words slurred.

The waitress came to take their order. Before the woman said anything, Parker barked that she wanted a cup of coffee: black and strong. The rest ordered the same.

“Five coffees, coming up. I’ll be back in a few moments to take your food orders.” She sauntered off to take the next table’s order.

Francis turned to Claudia. “Why don’t you take Parker to the restroom, so she can get cleaned up?”

Parker’s head nodded forward, but she snapped it back up. “I need to splash cold water on my face.” The student stood. A slight trace of blood remained on her shirt.

Otis looked away guiltily.

Claudia walked arm-and-arm with Parker to the bathroom, fearful, but she knew not to disobey an order from Francis. Inside, Parker held onto the sink with one hand and turned the water on cold with the other. She splashed her face repeatedly, soaking her shirt even more.

After Parker finished her cold shower and used the toilet, the two headed back towards the table.

The coffees had arrived. Parker greedily grabbed hers and took a long swallow.

The waitress returned. “What can I get you folks to eat?”

“I don’t want any cookies,” responded Parker. She was as stunned by her own pronouncement as the rest of the group. “I mean, I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

The waitress tapped her pencil on her pad. “Right. Why don’t I give you a few more minutes?” She wandered off, shaking her head. Why did she always get the wackos?

Parker slurped her coffee again.

Claudia wanted to ask what she missed, but she didn’t have the gumption. None of the men spoke. Claudia tapped her fork on the table, nervously.

The waitress returned, a huge fake smile plastered on her face. “All right, have you folks decided?”

The brothers got BLTs, with pie for dessert. Claudia ordered a salad; Francis, a steak. When it came time for Parker to order, she looked to Francis imploringly. Her vision was blurred, and she couldn’t make head nor tails out of the menu.

“She’ll have the steak, as well. Rare.” He thought the protein would be good for her.

The waitress never stopped smiling. “Coming right up.” She was thinking,
What drug is that woman on?

Boyd straightened in his seat and tapped the table nervously with his fingertips. “So, we have an arrangement?”

Francis nodded.

“Arrangement?” Claudia looked at Boyd and then back to Francis. “What arrangement?”

“To take care of it.” Boyd didn’t want to elaborate, not just because he was in public. He never wanted to say aloud what “taking care of it” really meant.

Claudia started to protest.

“It’s okay, Claudia.” Francis placed his hand on her arm. “We’re all on the same team now. It’s taken care of.”

“What do you mean the
same team
?” Parker eyed Otis. “I swear I know you.” Her coffee was kicking in. The student motioned to the waitress, indicating that she wanted another cup.

“We may have met,” Otis mumbled. “I don’t know for sure.” He looked away from her stare.

“You’re the one aren’t you?” stated Parker.

“The one?” Otis stalled.

“The one.” Parker’s eyes said,
don’t mess with me
.

Otis froze. Boyd tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t.

Claudia hoped Parker would start a fight and get herself killed.

“The one who shot me. It’s starting to come back to me.”

Everyone but Francis was shocked by Parker’s matter-of-fact manner. The old Parker was back.

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t shoot to—”

“To kill.” Parker raised her coffee cup to her lips. “Still, it hurts.” She motioned to Claudia for the Advil bottle.

“I just wanted you to stop shooting at me.” Otis defended himself.

Parker nodded. Slowly, memories of the shootout came back to her.

“What’s going on?” asked Claudia, realizing as she said it that she never meant to verbalize the question.

“Parker’s back.” Francis stated, unequivocally. He thought of the time he had sat on Parker’s deck with his gun next to him. Parker hadn’t flinched. Now, she sat at a table with the assassins and the woman who set her up, and she was cool as a cucumber. God, he had missed her.

The waitress brought the food.

With one look at the cherry pie, Parker ordered herself a slice, too. Claudia followed suit.